Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from this show.

Shoutout to TheAeacusProject for inspiring me to write some Gotham fanfics (they are amazing).

The mask was... a symbol.

[And a hideaway.]

He was Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, socialite and esteemed citizen of Gotham City. He lived in a Manor, got all the beautiful girls and had a butler, who was a former S.A.S member.

He was also Batman. Vigilante.

Two so different personas, but both belonging to the same person.

Bruce wasn't one or the other; but then, sometimes he was.

He was Bruce Wayne at fundraisers, smiling politely at people, mingling, pretending to care about appearances; he was Bruce Wayne at Wayne Enterprises board meetings; he was Bruce Wayne when he brought home beautiful girls; he was Bruce Wayne, a troubled
/young man, who'd lost too much, too soon.

He was Batman when he fought for justice; he was Batman every night he strapped on that suit and cape and mask and fought criminals; he was Batman, who, besides fighting crime, did nothing -worried about nothing.

Because Batman did not have worries, besides what foes he was going to face next; he was not haunted by his parents' death, because he had no parents. He did not miss the one girl, he'd always loved, because she did not exist - not to Batman. To Bruce
Wayne,yes, but not to Batman. And Batman's problems disappeared as soon as the mask was gone.

And maybe that's what Bruce loved about the mask; it did not just hide him from the world, but it also hid the world - Bruce Wayne's world - from him.

The mask was... a symbol.

And a hideaway.